A Chance Encounter
by littlelunaeve
Summary: Written by VF142 For the now abandoned Roughneck Forums


A Chance Encounter, Chapter One  
>Martin Guiterrez<p>

Three years ago, Ja'kob:

Shung regarded the remains of his troops, and as the blazing Argosian sun beat down on them he decided to be philosophical about the situation. "It is not uncommon to desire killing a young man, but it rare that one feels the need to send soldiers to do the job."

His men regarded him with a surprising amount of good cheer. It was surprising that they had any left. Their armor, their clothing hung in tatters. Their weapons were largely out of ammunition. At the scene of their final rout, those that had survived had relied largely on short swords and knives to hack their way to safety. Not one man in fifty in their ranks could consider himself an expert in the use of the ceremonial but deadly blades that hung at their right hips. These swords had a utilitarian function and saved the surviving men's lives.

The heat was particularly oppressive to Shung and his men in their black robes. Their breathing tubes had done a poor job of filtering out the blowing sand that blew with such force that it hurt.

"Perhaps we deserved our fate." said Shung, "We have ruled the Argosians for a thousand years. Never in that time has there ever been an uprising we were unable to quell. We had come to believe that we did so because we were destined to, not the fact that we were the better armed or the better trained."

The object of the hunt, a leader in the Argosian rebel movement, Ja'kob of Condacin, sat in the shade of a rocky outcropping. The commandeered Psychlo shuttle was dim and distant memory. The crash had thrown him clear and separated him from his troops. The desert terrain of the dying planet Argos was a land at war. Two races, the Psychlo, who had ruled over Argos for almost a thousand years, and the indigenous Argosians. If you had cleaned and groomed Ja'kob and dressed him in Terran clothing he would pass as a resident of Earth. The Argosians had a reputation for savagery, but a single look into Ja'kob's grey eyes, eyes that spoke volumes of intelligence, canny, and cunning, would dissolve that impression like sugar in water.

The Psychlo moved through the narrow canyons, Shung's aide, Kelgar, took a reading from his sensory device. "He's stationary, three hundred yards to the east of us." said Kelgar.

"Stationary?" said Shung "I don't like that, he knows he's being pursued, I don't know, perhaps he is psychic, perhaps he can see into the spirit world, but he knows."

"Sir, couldn't it be just as likely that he is separated from his companions, helpless." said Kelgar.

The Psychlo arrogantly strode forth, as they had when they quelled many previous uprisings. That confidence lasted until they had walked into a small canyon. An explosion knocked out half of the two-dozen men that Shung commanded. The others ran forward, fleeing to safety, or so they thought. The ground fell out from under them, and Shung, bringing up the rear, barely stopped himself in time. He saw the broken bodies of his men lying below.

"B$#&d!" shouted Shung.

Ja'kob smiled to himself, he could not have chosen a better place for an ambush. His time fighting in these deserts had served him well. There were those superstitious among Argosians who believed the deserts were a sort of nexus, a joining of all realities. It was said one who wandered these barren wastelands would see visions of the future. Ja'kob, however, believed no such thing was true. He walked forth, heading for his hometown of Condacin.

He sniffed the air, and did not like what he felt. A change in the weather. A storm. He remembered the outcropping, cover, a place he could escape. He turned around, and came withing a millimeter of losing his life. The sharp blade slashed downward, it had been arcing for his neck, had he not turned, the sword would have slashed his jugular vein.

His head erupted in blinding white pain. He felt the blood trickling from the wound. "Did I take the eye out?" said Shung.

"What love would I have of my eyes?" said Ja'kob.

"Indeed, why is that?" said Shung.

"These eyes have seen rebel leaders tortured in the public square. They have seen old men, women, and children killed out of sheer wanton cruelty in the massacre of Condacin, a massacre ordered by you, you b#$&*d! They have seen my father beaten in the public square, until a once proud man was reduced to screaming in even anticipation of blows. They have seen the hand of tyranny gripping Argos, and before I grew to manhood I wanted to lop that hand off at the wrist." said Ja'kob.

Suddenly all thoughts of toying with his victim had been evaporated. Now he just wanted this freak of nature dead, and fast. What Shung had not realized was that Ja'kob had used his speech as a stalling method. A whirling storm of sand and wind blew suddenly. Shung's sword flew from his grasp and he threw his hand to his face, shielding it from the elements. His groping hands found his weapon, but it was lifted away. Shung thought that the wind had tauntingly snatched it away from his hands.

He found the weapon again, this time buried in his chest, up to the hilt. "Looking for this." said Ja'kob.

Ja'kob stuck the short sword on his own belt, and rummaged around Shung's body. His hands had found a pouch on Shung's belt. He was hoping to find something along the lines of a first aid kit. It wasn't a first aid kit, as Ja'kob had hoped, but a tool pouch. Although someone of Shung's rank could hardly be called a common repair man, all Psychlo prided themselves of being prepared for anything. His fingers curled around something he realized might be of use, a small laser welder. It was handy for repairing small metal surfaces, but not intended for flesh. Unfortunately that was the use that Ja'kob had in mind. He leaned against a rock, the hilt of the sword in his mouth. He pinched the ends of the deep slash together and flicked on the welder. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air and Ja'kob found out he was more than capable of feeling pain. As soon as he finished the grisly task, the sword fell to the ground, and with grim amusement, he realised he had bitten so hard that he had left toothmarks in the hilt. He still was amused when he passed out...

A Chance Encounter, Chapter Two  
>Martin Guiterrez<p>

Ja'kob came to, disoriented, his vision disfocused. There was someone lying beside him, "They're beautiful, aren't they?" she said, pointing up at the stars.

"Jakob, what are you thinking?" she said, she looked worried. She was in her early twenties by the look of her, in a blue jumpsuit of a design Ja'kob did not recognize. Her dark eyes were a rich brown color, like her hair.

"Get up!" a gruff voice ordered. He turned to see the apparition of his long dead father standing over him, his back red with whip marks.

"Go to hell!" said Ja'kob, with what was left of his strength. He felt heat in his body, and it wasn't just because of the desert environment, he knew he was with fever and to top it all off his wound was most likely infected.

There was a man who could not be identified, he appeared to be in his late twenties, or early thirites. He was bearded as well, "You're responsibility is to this ship, and to this crew."

There were other voices and spectres as well, there was a word he heard again and again, "Captain."

There were more distant figures and one of them was the bearded man he had seen in the vision not more than seconds ago. "Gods, you're burning up. Get him treatment immediately." said the man.

A short time later, Ja'kob awoke in a cavern lined with medical treatment beds and equipment. The bearded man was standing there. "I am Ja'red of Vemlar, my troops found you in the desert."

"So I surmised." said Ja'kob.

"So you are the infamous Ja'kob of Condacin." said Ja'red, "You're younger than the Psychlo make you out to be, you're what, twenty-one?"

"Nineteen summers." said Ja'kob.

Ja'red seemed taken aback by this only for a moment, "I was younger when I began to lead a revolt in my own province."

"The Psychlo?" said Ja'kob, attempting to stand.

"They are gone." said Ja'red, "The last of their troops pulled out of Argos last week. We have a problem though, the Psychlo have polluted our planet to the point where it will be uninhabitable in less than one century. We have begun construction of purification systems to slow the process but our best hope is to search for an uninhabited planet to colonize. We have already begun building ships to that end."

A few months later, Ja'kob was the second in command aboard the Champion of Argos, under Ja'red's command. The crew were all issued uniforms designed to deal with all extremes of climate. They wore black and grey uniforms with heating built in. In the pocket of the jacket was a battery that supplied the heating fibers that ran throughout the uniform.

Two years later: The gravity distortion had nearly pulled the Champion apart. It had caused casualties aboard the ship and all were expected to make full recoveries, except for Ja'red.

"Ja'kob, I am dying." said Ja'red.

"Don't talk that way." said Ja'kob, "You'll be fine."

"Death smiles on us all, she's chosen me to go now." said Ja'red.

"I will save you. I will have Kurta put all her efforts..." said Ja'kob.

"No, Ja'kob. You're responsibility is to this ship, and to this crew. Nothing can save me now." with that, Ja'red began to die.

Ja'kob began to shoulder his new responsibility and headed down to Engineering where Garan, a heavy set man in his mid twenties awaited him. "Damage report."

"We've sustained damage to the ion drives, I require six hours to fix them. All other systems operational, but needing repairs." said Garan.

Before he could reply, there was a call from the bridge, "Report from the bridge, we need you here." said Haken, the oversized security chief.

"On my way." said Ja'kob.

"We've detected an unknown vessel on our sensors." said Haken, "It's dead in space. It doesn't seem to be mobile."

"Life forms." said Ja'kob.

"One." said Haken.

"Tractor it into the landing bay." said Ja'kob.

"Yes sir." said Haken, "The Captain?"

"He's dead, Haken." said Ja'kob.

Garan with a cutting torch opened the hatch on the strange vessel. It seemed to belong to an organiation called SICON. Whatever SICON was, it was at war, as evidenced by the damage done to the ship. The crew was dead, save for one at the pilot's station.

"Get her to Sickbay." said Ja'kob. As Kurta removed the woman's helmet, Ja'kob was struck by recognition, this was the woman that he had seen in his vision in the desert years earlier...

A Chance Encounter, Chapter 3  
>Martin Guiterrez<p>

Carmen Ibanez awakened on a diagnostic table. A woman with jet black hair neatly pulled into a single ponytail behind her head with a narrow face and green eyes looked down at her, pointing some sort of device at her. Instinctively she blinked her eyes.

"No need to worry." said the woman, in soft tones, "I am Kurta, ship's doctor aboard the Champion of Argos."

"Champion of Argos?" Carmen said, she glanced around at a ship that was obviously a decade or so more advanced than anything SICON had previously thrown into the field, "Who are you people?"

"We are on an exploratory mission from the planet Argos. Our world is dying and we are in search of a new home." said Kurta.

"Argos?" said Carmen.

"Yes." said Kurta.

"That's lightyears away from the last position of our ship." said Carmen.

"You might want to speak to either our captain or Russot, our ship's navigator." said Kurta.

Carmen attempted to stand, and felt searing pain all over, "Rest for another two hours, the microsutures aren't set yet."

"Microsutures?" said Carmen.

"Microscopic surgical sutures that allow for the formation of muscular tissue over the area that the surgery was performed." said Kurta.

"I was out for what, a week?" said Carmen.

"Forty six hours, it normally takes forty eight for full recovery. There was internal injury, we had to operate." said the woman, Kurta.

Two hours later, Carmen walked out of the sickbay aboard the ship and walked into the corridor. She ran into a teenaged girl, carrying a datapad. "I'm sorry." she said to the girl, who, with her slender build, short height, short hair framing her youthful face, appeared to be nineteen at most.

"It's alright." the girl replied.

"Do you know where the captain is?" said Carmen.

"No, I don't." said the girl.

"I need to speak with him." said Carmen.

"He should be in his ready room." said the girl.

"Could you take me there?" said Carmen.

"Sure." said the girl, "And who might you be?"

"Lieutenant Carmen Ibanez, of the Strategically Integrated Coalition of Nations, SICON."

"I am Maran, first officer of the Champion of Argos." said the girl.

Carmen looked blankly at the girl, "First officer? And may I ask how old you are?"

"I am twenty three standard years old." said Maran.

"You're younger than you look." said Carmen, more than mildly astonished at the slender brunette who barely came up to her shoulder.

"Thank you." said Maran.

They exited the lift into the ship's bridge. A massively built man with the shoulders of a water buffalo and a hugely muscled body was standing just outside, apparently he was off duty. He gave an acknowledging nod and the pair walked out into the bridge.

"Haken, our chief of security." said Maran, indicating the big man that headed into the lift, "You can set your watch by him, he always goes on his daily rounds at exactly 0900."

"0900 by..." said Carmen.

"We operate on a twenty-five hour day." said Maran.

She touched the panel outside a door marked Ready Room in the alien tongue, at least to Carmen it was. The ship's complement, from what she had seen, led her to believe that Argosians were more or less human as far as appearance went.

"Enter." said a male voice.

They did so, and Carmen saw a man, of medium built and height with a trim figure, with a pair of grey eyes lodged in a narrow face framed by dark brown hair. What appeared to be a ridged white scar lined the left side of his face from below the temple almost to his jaw line and he was uniformed in the same manner as the rest of the crew, save for the brown work worn leathery jacket he wore, it appeared to be made of the hide of a lizard of some sort.

"I am Ja'kob of Condacin, commander of this vessel." said the man, he appeared to be somewhere in his early twenties.

Carmen noted that behind the man was a ceremonial but no less deadly sword about a half meter long hung from the wall. A smaller but no less deadly dagger was on the desk, within the man's reach and he appeared to have been in the process of polishing the blade when Carmen and Maran entered.

"Lieutenant Carmen Ibanez, of the Strategically Intergrated Coalition of Nations." Carmen said.

"Ah, the pilot of that vessel we saved." said Ja'kob.

"Yes." Carmen said, attempting to pronounce the commander's first name but Jakob was the nearest her human tongue could come to pronouncing it correctly.

"Your pronunciation worries you." said Ja'kob, "It matters not, I know you are addressing me."

Maran spoke up, "She said she could be of service in helping us locate our position."

"Report to Russot at the helm, he needs all the help he can get." said Ja'kob.

"Yes captain." she said, extending the formality to the commander of the vessel, "May I ask how you came by that scar?"

She expected anything but the almost casual reply, "A Psychlo laid open half my face with that sword hanging from the bulkhead."

"Psychlo?" said Carmen.

"The race that occupied our planet, and the reason for it's demise." said Ja'kob.

"Ja'kob," said Maran, "If I may, can I give Lieutenant Ibanez a tour of this vessel."

"Maran, if you think it's the right thing to do and as long as it does not put the ship in any immediate danger, and is within reasonable limits, you need not ask." he said, making a gesture with his hand.

They exited the room and a lizard approximately three meters long with curved claws on all four feet and a mouth filled with curved dagger like teeth blocked their path. It hissed at Carmen displaying it's fearsome dental hardware.

Fearlessly Maran stepped forward and barked a sharp command at the lizard which relaxed. "What was that?" Carmen asked.

"A ksaa lizard." Maran replied, "On Argos, ksaa lizards are used as guard animals."

Carmen said, "Kind of like watch dogs."

"Watch dogs?" Maran asked.

"Dogs, an animal on planet earth kept as a pet for many reasons, sometimes for companionship, other times for guard duties or even military work, like the neodogs." said Carmen.

"Ksaa typically become rather attached to those they see as familiar." said Maran. The lizard hissed again and Carmen thought it was another threat display.

"Kree wants you to stroke her." said Maran.

"You mean she understands you?" said Carmen. Maran nodded.

Carmen was a little afraid of the fearsome lizard, fearing it would pounce and tear out her throat. "She will consider it most impolite if you refuse."

Carmen stroked the lizard a few times, it's skin felt surprisingly soft and supple but she could feel the hard muscle underneath. The lizard hissed again, but this time it carried a tone of contentment.

"That jacket your captain wears, it doesn't appear to be standard issue, where did he get it?" said Carmen.

"I made it for him." said Maran, "It was a gift, gratitude for saving my life. A ksaa lizard went berzerk and attacked me, Ja'kob killed it immediately. Out of gratitude, I made it for him four years ago. He's rarely seen without it."

"It must be very special to him." said Carmen.

"I intended it as a wedding gift." Maran said, "We were betrothed from birth but my father was killed and that gave me the right of choice."

"So you chose not to marry him?" said Carmen.

"It wasn't as if I didn't care about him." said Maran, "But he also intended to release me from the obligation because I confided to him that I was uncomfortable with the thought of marriage at the time. Still, I let him keep that wedding gift because I feel he earned it."

'This could be an interesting trip.' Carmen thought


End file.
